


A Back and Forth Through Time

by BrokeTheLights



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Active Abuse, Angst, Arguments, BJ's very unhappy, Betelgeuse is a bastard, Betelgeuse swears a lot, Body Horror, Child Abuse, Death by Asphyxiation, Death by Drowning, FYI, Fear, Feelings, Fluff, Gore, Heavy Language, I'll keep tagging maybe as the fic goes on, Lydia deals with too much bullshit, Objects of Deep Emotional Importance, Stars, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Swearing, Torture, also I'm thinking lots of trigger warnings, and a bit of a perv still, and a promise to mess with said objects, death by hanging, for later in the fic, graphic depictions of death, like seriously keep yourself safe, local demon catches feelings, most of this is for later in the fic but it's only gonna be 10 chapters, no beetlebabes, so you know, sue me (don't actually), suicide TW, tiny clay beetles that mean a whole lot, yeah this is a reunion fic but like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23064385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokeTheLights/pseuds/BrokeTheLights
Summary: Life is full of parallels, as most history majors will tell you. The same is true for death, but maybe under different circumstances, parallels don't have to wind up with the same exact ending. Betelgeuse winds up back at the Maitland/Deetz household and finds himself in a strangely familiar situation, but with very little clue as to how he should proceed.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 85





	1. Found My Way Back

**Author's Note:**

> Just a forewarning, I am still actively editing this story as I go along, and it's just me writing, so sorry in advance for any major mistakes you see. Please be kind, as while it's not my first time 'round the rodeo it's still nerve-wracking to post my works! There's also no set schedule for updates, just when I'm able to finish chapters around the workload I have to carry out on a regular basis, just a heads up. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betelgeuse winds up back at the Deetzes and Lydia lets him stay for a bit, but out of sight from the adults until she can talk to them. We see Betelgeuse’s origins.

There was panic and alarms blaring as a black and white striped demon ran through the darkened streets of the Netherworld. He’d been caught trying to steal from the archives of the dead by an archivist who’d been told directly to capture him, though the demon thought he had gotten away from the archivist until more yelling had started up. He grasped the thick brown folder of papers he’d been digging through tightly in one hand, like his afterlife depended on it, and told himself that he wouldn’t be out of the woods until he was out of the Netherworld itself.

He made a split second decision, put into action an idea he most definitely hadn’t thought through, and dashed into the reception room of the Netherworld. Papers were scattered as he ran past, recently deceased were pushed out of the way, and more yelling ensued as the reception was tipped into chaos. The demon used the chaos to his advantage, as he dashed to the entrance of the reception room, where it connected to the real world, and drew a rushed chalk door. He knocked three times, and it began to slide open as he shoved with all his might against it, an image in his mind of where he wanted it to go. Then suddenly, it burst open.

He fell through the door, yelling and screaming and loose papers chasing him, then scrambled to slam it shut when he was clear. Quickly, he rubbed the chalk off the wall so that no one could follow him, then leaned against the now normal wall as he sighed in relief. He then looked down at the folder getting crumpled in his tight grip with a grin. Suddenly a voice that came from behind startled him.

“Betelgeuse?!”

The demon wheeled around with widened eyes as a young girl with pitch black hair tied up in a ponytail stood in the doorframe to the room the demon was in. He glanced around quickly as she pulled her door closed, then a pit in his stomach opened up as he realised where his half-baked plan had taken him.

The girl just stared at him as he put on a crooked, apologetic smile, and put both of his hands in the air like she had a gun trained on him. His normally freshly-cut-lawn-grass green hair turned a shade of sickly yellow for a second before shifting back, and a couple of the papers he gripped fell loose from the rest to drift lazily to the ground near his feet.

“U-uh, Lydia, babes, I can explain-” the demon started, but the girl cut him off.

“Is it really you, Betelgeuse? Why are you in my room? What are you doing here? What was that yelling from, or wait, was that the Netherworld? Were those sounds because of you? I thought you would have changed to be a better person after last time, it’s been like a year!”

Betelgeuse blinked. “Um…”

Lydia huffed, then backtracked on her questions a little. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were going to search for your dad.”

Betelgeuse blinked again, then grinned as he dropped his free hand and wiggled the messy folder in his other one. A couple more papers came loose.

“I am still in the process of doing that,” he announced, “I just haven’t found a solid path to him yet. Actually, that path is why I’m, uh, here…”

Lydia frowned. “You think,” she began slowly, “that your dad is somewhere in this house? Because I hate to break it to you, Betelgeuse, but he’s definitely not here.”

Betelgeuse pinched his eyebrows together, then shook his head vigorously as he leaned down to place the folder on the ground and tuck the fallen papers back into it. “No, no no no, I know he’s not here. No, I’m just- well, you heard what I just came out of, right? The Netherworld is getting new management - who hate me, by the way - and is getting into a state of… _order_. Blech!” Betelgeuse feigned gagging as he rolled his long, striped green tongue out of his mouth, and Lydia couldn’t help but snicker a little before she composed herself again. The demon stood up with the folder in hand. “So, uh, I need a place to, uhm, lay low. And I didn’t think through where I was going when I drew the door here, but I can’t exactly go back right now. So before you say anything just hear me out!”

Betelgeuse held up a hand in front of Lydia as she opened her mouth, and Lydia closed it again. She pursed her lips, and he dropped his arm.

“Before you go and banish me back to the Netherworld hear my plea,” Betelgeuse said as dramatically as he could, and he peaked at Lydia from behind a hand he’d placed on his forehead to see if his theatrics were working in her. She seemed unfazed, and he switched tactics. “Look, when I left you guys last time, I began to feel this weird gut feeling way down inside of me, and while normally I would have assumed that it was nothing or me wanting a snack, this feeling was really big and unwavering. And I found out, through some trial and error, that that huge stupid feeling was guilt, and it was because of what I did here. So while I was wandering around the Netherworld trying to figure out what I should do, I really wanted to come back here so that I could apologise, but it’s not like I could have just shown up and been like ‘hey, I can’t stop feeling dumb emotions ever since I went and made you bring me to life, so now I need you to make me feel better, thanks’, because obviously you’d just kick me back out. So I continued to try and look for daddy dearest, which led me to looking through archives of everyone in the Netherworld, which made me to get caught in the section I think actually had a lead, which brought me here as an escape route.”

Lydia seemed to actually consider Betelgeuse’s words, but she still looked sceptical. “So, you’re not gonna try and get yourself summoned again by manipulating me or anyone else? Because if so, you can leave right now.”

A couple insects and a disturbing amount of soil fell from Betelgeuse’s head as he once again vigorously shook it. “I swear, I learned my lesson the last time, I just need to hang out for a bit until everything has calmed down in the Netherworld again and they’ve completely forgotten about me, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Lydia nodded with what seemed to be almost sadness, then finally broke out into a grin. “I thought I’d never see you again! And while at first that was an almost comforting thought, you really made me laugh when we were actually friends last time you were here, and I missed that! I missed having a friend.”

“Gee, what a backhanded compliment,” Betelgeuse muttered, but shut his mouth as Lydia walked across her room and wrapped her arms around him carefully.

“It’s good to know you’re okay,” Lydia smiled. She then pulled away and glared at him. “But don’t you dare even try to attempt to make me or anyone else marry you, because that was icky and weird and gross.”

“You have my vows,” Betelgeuse said with a sly grin. Lydia simply deepened her glare, and he relented. “Okay, okay, I swear!”

“Good,” Lydia sighed. “Now then, if you’re gonna stay, you’re gonna need a space, right?”

Betelgeuse glanced around. “I suppose, but I don’t need a lot of space. I could probably fit in a shoebox if you’ve got one in here, just gotta size down!”

“You’re not staying in my room,” the girl intoned as she moved to her bedroom door, much to the demon’s disappointment.

“What? Why not?”

Lydia gave him a sideways glance, then opened the door to peak out and make sure no one else was there. “Do I really need to spell it out for you? You’re a many-millennia-year-old demon and I use my bedroom for more than just sitting around in. I don’t want you in there when I need to use it, like when I need to sleep or change. That’s just weird.”

Betelgeuse grumbled something about it only being weird if one made it weird, but followed Lydia out of the room anyways. They were faced with a short hallway, in which a small set of stairs leading up to the attic sat on one side, a door just like Lydia’s stood beside that and was slightly ajar, and a flight of stairs leading down to the foyer sat opposite the door. Lydia turned to Betelgeuse with a finger over her lips, and he mimicked zipping up his mouth as he began to hover just barely above the floor. Lydia smiled, then began to move forward.

“Why are we keeping so quiet,” Betelgeuse whispered in Lydia’s ear when they reached the top of the stairs to the foyer, “when it would probably be better in the long run if I just reintroduced myself and made amends or whatever with everyone right now?”

“Because,” she whispered back as she leaned down a little to gauge if anyone was immediately downstairs at the moment, “I’m gonna ask everyone what their opinions on you are tonight at dinner before you come out and show yourself, so that when you do appear to them again things won’t go terribly wrong. I’m sure you’d rather not like to be screamed at by a pair of angry ghosts and humans, right?”

Betelgeuse scrunched up his nose. “I guess not.”

“And, if they don’t like the idea of you being back _at all_ ,” Lydia said as softly as possible, “then we’ll have to find a creative way of bringing you around to them. But until then we just gotta keep you out of sight from everyone. Okay?”

“…Okay,” Betelgeuse agreed reluctantly, which earned him a glare and a small shove from Lydia.

“You’re the one wanting to stay, this is the price you gotta pay. Especially because of what you did last time, to everyone.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know,” the demon muttered, and Lydia put her focus back on the downstairs area.

The landing seemed to be clear, which relieved her, and she began to pull Betelgeuse as she went down. “I’m thinking the basement might be the best spot for you. Almost no one else goes down there, except for me, because that’s where my darkroom is, so it shouldn’t be all that suspicious to anyone else when I go down a bunch to check in on you, as long as I’ve got pictures to develop. Just a warning, everything in there is pretty delicate, so just don’t go messing with all that much of it, okay?”

“Okay,” the demon replied as he floated behind her, “any other rules I should know about before I intentionally go about breaking your laws?”

Lydia frowned at him, then moved from the bottom of the stairs and into the living room, making sure no one occupied it beforehand. “Betelgeuse don’t you dare, you’ve gotta swear you’re gonna follow my rules!”

The demon huffed, then nodded slowly, his eyes closed. “Fine. It’s just for a short time anyways.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine without doing anything crazy or stupid for a couple days,” Lydia chuckled as he opened his eyes again. She led him towards the basement staircase just across the living room. “In all seriousness though, I did miss you.”

Betelgeuse was silent for a moment, and Lydia turned to look at him when he didn’t respond, one hand on the basement door handle. Her eyes widened when she saw the look on his face and the deeper hue his hair had taken on, and before he could try and rearrange his features into something akin to a smile, she put a hand on his upper arm.

“Are you gonna be okay?” she asked quietly.

Betelgeuse shook his head a little, loosening a couple deep turquoise strands of hair, then nodded at her with a small grin. “Yeah, uh, I’ll be fine. I just… I know it’s not good enough right now, but I’m- well, I’m sorry, for being so terrible to you. I-I should have read between the lines, and just because things are a certain way for me, doesn’t mean they’re that same for someone else, and I should have realised that but I didn’t and placed you in a world of hurt and pain, and just… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the misunderstandings that happened the last time I was here.”

Lydia watched him for a couple seconds, then removed her hand from his arm, and looked away. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s not really good enough, but I think for now I’m gonna trust that you’re being honest here.” She looked back up at him. “I’ll accept your apology for now, until you can do something to prove that you really are sorry, okay?”

Betelgeuse seemed to brighten as his hair turned back to vibrant green, and he floated up in the air a little more. “Okay, yeah, I could probably work something out.”

“Now get on in there, ya mangy demon, you,” Lydia joked as she pulled the basement door open, and Betelgeuse obliged. 

He placed his weight onto the ground again then leapt off the top step, barely taking heed of the stairs as he landed hard on the cement floor below. He then looked up and grinned at Lydia as though his hair wasn’t subtly changing from green to blue.

“I think I can make this work,” he called up, though Lydia shushed him as she tried to suppress giggles.

“Just try to be quiet, and don’t forget that there’s a light switch here,” she quickly reached inside the doorframe and flicked a switch that was next to the door above the stairs, which sparked a couple of bare bulbs that hung a metre from the ceiling on, “and down there,” she pointed at another switch next to where Betelgeuse had landed, just above the bottom stair. “You know, just in case you need ‘em or something.” The demon nodded.

“Aye aye, cap’n. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

“You’d better hope my double set of parents don’t until I’ve talked to them,” Lydia mumbled, then waved to Betelgeuse and left him to his own devices.

As the door closed behind the girl, Betelgeuse let out a breath, then looked around. He certainly hadn’t been summoned, so he knew he couldn’t change the basement to fit how he would prefer it to look anytime soon. But the way it looked normally, with a large chunk of it walled off to make the dark room and the rest of it half finished and stripped, was just depressing.

Instead of staring at the drab basement in all of it’s sad glory, Betelgeuse turned off the lights again. There was always the small chance that one of the adults would notice the light that came from the basement, anyways, and he might as well not draw attention to himself, as Lydia requested. At least until she had a chance to talk with her parental units. He sighed again, then sat down on the hard cement floor with his legs crossed. Besides, the demon figured that if he got too bored, he could always mess with papers or objects with deep emotional meaning without getting caught, easy. Hopefully Lydia could convince her parents that Betelgeuse was somehow okay to have back in the house for a short period, but until then, the demon knew that he had a long couple of hours ahead of him, with thoughts that he most definitely did not want to sort out yet.

Finally, before he thought too hard about where he was at, physically and mentally, Betelgeuse laid down in the dark, closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep in the hopes of tricking his own dead body. Soon enough, he began to snore.

:~ **<** O **>** ~:

The setting was a small pink and blue room in the middle of infinity which constantly seemed to shift in shape and size. The ceiling was non-existent, opened to an entire universe of ever-changing stars and space. No doors or windows could be seen within the room, though if one were to try, one could watch a side of the room and see past it into new galaxies never before witnessed. The floor of the room was a massive black and white spiral, the centre of which seemed to go on forever, though it was hardly the focus of the beings which stepped inside the room.

No, rather, the focus was placed on a tiny countertop that sat just off centre of the middle of the room. It’s dresser drawers were all pulled open, revealing nothing but empty matter and endless pits of ancient, abandoned space. The countertop itself was made of polished marble. On top of it, a minuscule Petri dish was placed carefully, the contents inside sloshing around hard without any outside disturbance.

One of the two beings leaned forward and stared at the Petri dish. There appeared to be a tiny black speck in the clear liquid the dish contained, and the being gave something equivalent to a smile. The being turned to the other, then changed itself to look more like an average human woman. The second being did the same, though as an average human man instead.

The average human woman looked back at the dish with her human-like eyes, then picked the dish up. The liquid stilled, and through its flat surface, the tiny black speck poked what it must have thought was its head up. Both the speck and the average human woman stared at each other for a number of moments, then the average human woman once again turned back at the average human man.

“Look at what we’ve created,” she said. “We’ve made another one, what shall we do with it? Should we make it look like these forms we wear now? Or perhaps allow it to shift at will? I like that idea, it would be much more useful if it could change, but perhaps only based on… wordplay? Literal translation?”

The average human man simply watched, unmoving, his face blank. The average human woman frowned, then put all of her focus back on the speck as it began to splash around in the still liquid. She smiled.

“Perhaps you’ll go far, perhaps you’ll end up annoying me like all the others, perhaps you’ll get me trapped in this form. Come on now, speak!”

The speck swelled a little, and grew a mouth. It didn’t know what to do with a mouth, however, and simply slapped its lips together. It pushed itself against the edge of the Petri dish, put two tiny finger-like extremities over the rim, and forced itself to grow a voice box. Then it hummed and hawed and cheered a little as it was jostled around its dish, and the average human woman grinned.

“Good job!” she said proudly, and glanced back at the average human man.

He only stared back with a blank expression, and she ignored him. The speck was beginning to take reference from the room, and decided to colour itself with the same black and white pattern that was on the floor. The spiral wrapped around it to eternity and back, and the average human woman grinned bigger.

“You’ll want a name, won’t you?” she asked it, and it moved where it had grown its mouth up and down like a nodding head. “Yeah, you always do. Well how about I tell you mine, first, what my others call me, then I’ll look for a name for you, huh?”

The speck gave another imitation of a nod, then flopped back into the Petri dish.

“Okay,” the average human woman said, “my name is Juno. I’m your mother, because no one else was going to make you, it seems,” she gave a pointed look back at the average human man, but he seemed to be even farther away from her as he stared, “but that’s okay for now. You’ll probably be called a demon, okay? The dead like calling things that weren’t ever human demons. But you’re not the only demon, so it’s alright, don’t be hurt by their words. There’ll be plenty of other things that’ll hurt you much much worse, so why be hurt by such trivial things as words?”

She seemed to be crying, as salted liquid dripped into the speck’s own Petri dish liquid, but it didn’t know what to do. Instead of waiting to try and figure out what to do, it raised its body above the liquid surface, flung what it must have now confidently identified as its head back over itself, and hummed some more. It seemed confident overall, and the average human woman smiled down at it as more salty drops fell from her face.

“Actually, I do have a name for you. It’s a name from a very far away place from here, it’s the name of something they revere like a god there. It’s the name of what they call a ‘star’… a very bright star, red and blue and hot and full of power, because that’s what you are, full of power.”

The speck nodded again like it could’ve possibly understood what she’d said, and chirped something unintelligible.

“Yes, it’ll fit you quite well,” said the average human woman. “Your name will henceforth be Betelgeuse. Beetle-Juice. Betelgeuse.”

The speck gurgled, and the average human woman smiled. It’d been a while since she’d made something like the speck, and she was happy. It was short lived happiness, however, when she turned and saw that the average human man had left without saying a word.

She dropped the dish on the countertop, then ran out of the room after the other being. She seemed determined to find the average human man, though even she couldn’t have known where he had gone. But no one gave her any mind, and once she’d left their line of sight, no one remembered her face, just the same as how they couldn’t remember his face.

The dish shattered when it hit the countertop, and the speck fell out of the splattered liquid and down onto the spiral floor. The broken glass liquified and rebuilt itself into a Petri dish again, but the dish was dry, and speck didn’t want to go back. It wanted to find out what else it could do, what else would make the average human woman smile like she had when it had attempted to speak. Slowly, painfully slowly, the speck began to change itself into something similar the what the average human woman looked like, and when she came back to the room she had left the Petri dish in, she was shocked, if not almost altogether miffed, at the speedy rate at which the speck had changed.


	2. Now I Don't Know What to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betelgeuse is bored and alone, so comes up with a plan to cure his boredom. A much younger Betelgeuse is hurt and hides himself away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Another chapter, and I know it's theoretically in the same day but I somehow had time on my hands. The next chapters most definitely won't be coming out so quick, so sorry for getting your hopes up, but hope you enjoy!

Betelgeuse was bored. It’d been three days, and though Lydia had tried to talk to her two sets of parents twice over dinner by sneaking Betelgeuse into the conversation, it seemed that neither of the pairs wanted him back. He couldn’t really blame them though, despite how desperately he wanted to; he’d very nearly ruined their lives/afterlives.

The demon sat in the dark, alone, twiddling his thumbs (literally). Though he knew that Lydia had gone off to school, and her living parents, Delia and Charles Deetz, had gone away to work, he still didn’t risk turning the lights on, just in case one of the house’s resident ghosts were more attentive than he thought. The ghosts, Adam and Barbara Maitland, were very selectively capable, and Betelgeuse had to begrudgingly admit that they were efficient at keeping their house kempt, despite the possible hindrances that could’ve come with being dead. They never worked on what they could possibly do in terms of some form of spiritual power that they almost undoubtedly had, but whenever they thought they were alone, they were extremely active, and moved from room to room making sure everything was in order. That is, until one of the breathers came back and messed around with their work in the evenings, like shuffling papers and bringing in new debris from the outside, at which point the Maitlands would just go about cleaning up the next morning when everyone left again. But they never came down to the basement.

The basement, Betelgeuse decided, was the one place that needed the Maitland’s attention the most, and was not a very comfortable place, especially if one was feeling the disgust and animosity of the people one had so terribly wronged. The demon had considered extensively just how useful it would be for the Maitlands to visit it once in a while for a little touching up. At the very least, it would help the poor basement immensely if it simply got a full open bucket of paint thrown down the stairs and left to spill out onto the cement, for at least then it would have some personality to it. It was pathetic, he thought, how trapped he felt in such a ridiculous position. He should be out somewhere tearing into some ancient cosmic being and calling it out for abandoning him when he was born, or at the very least ruining some newly-dead’s afterlife for not allowing him to do so, but there he was, in the Maitland/Deetz household basement, being crushed with how much he hated the basement, squished with stupid emotions over how unwanted he was, and tied down with promises he’d foolishly made to a human child immediatelty after returning. He could think of better places to be unwanted and alone, like a bathroom in a sleazy bar after a few too many drinks, or in a street gutter in front of a super fancy restaurant with a brand new bill in hand that signified a debt owed to the restaurant manager. But as things were, he was stuck, bored out of his mind and longing for a change in scenery because the basement was in a _crisis state and needed to be put out of its misery_. He could have sworn that if he had to stay in the same spot he was in for even just one more day, he was going to pass out and die - again. 

Thus, the demon figured out a plan that he hoped would get rid of his boredom, for the time being, and take his mind off of humanity in general. He decided he would sneak around the main floor of the house until he was satisfied, then work his way carefully back to the basement with an armful of stolen stuff and think about what he’d do with his newfound treasure until Lydia got back.

He stood just inside the basement door, his ear pressed against it to listen as he continued to work out the kinks of his plan. From somewhere far too close on the other side, Betelgeuse could hear the Maitlands talking about something, but he didn’t care to listen in on what it was. He was focused on making his plan go on without a hitch, and how he might even get a very dirty look from Lydia when she came back if he stole the right stuff.

Then, as he heard the Maitlands retreat somewhere deeper into the house and away from the basement door, Betelgeuse put his plan into action. The first thing he did, as Barbara’s smooth, calm voice drifted away, was stick his head through the centre of the door to make sure Adam wasn’t hanging around after his wife. The two of them, the demon knew, could be relatively sneaky when they wanted to be, though he wasn’t exactly sure why they would feel the need to be right then.

Looking out the door, Betelgeuse saw no one in the living room. He grinned a little, and let himself slip through the closed door until he stood on the other side, then picked his feet up off the floor so he didn’t make a sound. It simply wouldn’t do for the Maitlands to hear him then, when he’d just escaped his dark, cage-like domain downstairs. He then drifted forward a little bit and, with an ear and an eye literally out for the resident haunts, he began to look at knick knacks that he could pocket along the fireplace and on the coffee table. He got his grubby hands on a number of things before it sounded as though one of the Maitlands was coming back to the living room, such as a wide brass clock that ticked far too fast and a strange little photo of Lydia and her parents standing before two floating bedsheets with eyeholes.

He drifted out of the living room just as Barbara came back in, and he watched her around a corner for a couple seconds as she scanned the living room coffee table with a frown. Then he slipped away jovially and began to head towards the laundry room, which he knew would connect to the kitchen so he could steal some important cooking utensils. Betelgeuse’s cold, unbeating heart leapt with glee at the thought of how much he could inconvenience Delia Deetz next time she tried to make a brand new vegan dinner. He chuckled quietly to himself at the thought of the woman running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, screaming about missing some miscellaneous cooking tool or another. He then shook his head as he considered how sad it was for him to be taking this much joy from such small, stupid pranks. The basement really was taking its toll on him.

Suddenly, Betelgeuse heard Adam coming around in front of him at a rather fast pace, and before he could hide somewhere behind him, he heard Barbara coming up from the rear just as fast. Betelgeuse panicked as he thought about how they’d react to seeing him casually stealing random items from their home, then looked up at the ceiling above him. He thought about how demeaning it was to fly through the floor of the second level just to get away from a couple of lame, dull ghosts, but didn’t get fully through his thought before he zoomed upwards and escaped detection just in the nick of time.

He took a second to orient himself, then looked around at where he had ended up. The demon raised his eyebrows at the fact that he was only a couple steps away from Lydia’s room door. With little consideration, he decided that until the Maitlands stopped rushing around the house so much, he might as well hide out in Lydia’s room. She wouldn’t even know he had been in there, anyways, it wasn’t like he was going to be there for the entire time she was at school (he hoped).

As Adam and Barbara discussed something new and a phone began to ring from somewhere on the first floor, Betelgeuse phazed himself through Lydia’s door and into her room. Not much of note had changed since the last time he was in there, though he hadn’t really gotten a good look when he’d tumbled through the door from the Netherworld. The messy, thick-blanketed bed was still in the same corner of the room with a bedside table next to it, the closed closet was still in the same wall, and the dresser was still standing beside the closet doors, its shut drawers taunting him. There were a couple clothes on the ground, scattered in a generally contained area around a hamper, and two cardboard boxes were on the ground near the door and the foot of the bed, one of which had its top popped and revealed it was half full of photo albums and camera accessories. Betelgeuse fidgeted and interlocked his fingers together. He should not go through Lydia’s stuff, he knew that, he just _shouldn’t_ …

However, he found he couldn’t help himself. Before he could even blink, he was flinging open her closet doors and tearing into the cardboard boxes, nearly mad in his need to find something, _anything_ , that could help him cure his boredom, and maybe piss off Lydia in the process. Betelgeuse ran his fingers through the array of clothes Lydia had in her dresser as he searched their pockets, mostly black and a couple lacy, and while he did his best to stay away from those articles of clothing that might earn him more than just a slap from the girl if she ever found out he’d seen them, he wouldn’t admit nor deny that he didn’t at least peak. He dug deep into the miscellaneous items she stored in the back of her closet, ranging from marbles of every size kept in tidy bags to broken mirrors and picture frames, of which he pocketed a couple.

Finally, as the last thing that he went through in his efforts to apparently completely annihilate Lydia’s privacy, Betelgeuse went through her bedside table. It was mostly full of half developed film and two thick diaries, with a couple dead things and empty pill bottles stored for later use, but what really caught Betelgeuse’s eye was a small clay figure placed haphazardly with the rest of the stuff. His rampage of Lydia’s room came to a screeching halt as he reached in to pick it up carefully, then brought it close to his eyes.

It was a tiny clay model of a dung beetle, it’s six little legs splayed like it was about to be pinned to a cork board. Every one of its minuscule crevasses had been painted with black acrylics, except for its shell, where it had been painted with a vertical black and white striped pattern. It was strange, the demon thought as he took it in, how Lydia would have such a thing in her dresser, painted with the same design he wore on an every-day basis.

Then it clicked.

Lydia had told him that she’d missed him on the first day he had come back. She must have made the little clay beetle at some point after he’d left, perhaps in art class as an assignment. It was like a little charm, a reminder of him for her to keep safe, and for some reason, the thought that she’d wanted to remember him and their time as friends really got to the demon. Betelgeuse would be lying if he said that somewhere deep inside of him, a little piece of his decaying and eternally broken heart wasn’t moved by the thought that Lydia had treasured his friendship so much when afterwards he’d been nothing but cruel to her.

The demon clutched the little clay beetle with one shaking hand as he stood up from over the bedside table. He couldn’t look away from it, nor could he bring himself to put it down, and more guilt began to pool somewhere in his torso as he thought about the state of disrepair he’d managed to throw Lydia’s room into. Finally, he tore his eyes away from the beetle’s stripes, and though he still couldn’t quite let it go, he began to move around the room and pick things up, then attempt to put them back in their original spots. Eventually, he simply pocketed the beetle, and began to put things away much faster with all hands available.

All of a sudden, Betelgeuse heard a faint noise, the creaking of a step, then another, and froze in his tidying up to listen as someone rapidly climbed up the stairs from the foyer to the hallway, then quickly approached Lydia’s room. Betelgeuse dropped the bundle of clothes he held in his arms as he turned hastily first to one side, then to the other, and as the room door’s doorknob began to turn, the demon sprinted for the closet and snapped its bifolds shut with him inside.

He held his non-existent breath as he watched Lydia’s room door fly open and through it march Barbara, a subtle frown on her face as she carefully scanned each and every item in the room. It took every ounce of Betelgeuse’s being, but he kept very still, and held himself back from trying to scare Barbara away. The ghost looked towards the closet for a second, to which Betelgeuse quickly stepped back from the slits he peeked through, then she turned to study the bed. She seemed to find what she was looking for as she stepped over some fallen clothes and picked something up - a piece of important-looking purple paper that had been moved to the bed before Betelgeuse had had a chance to put it away somewhere else. Then Barbara promptly turned back to the entrance, and marched back out as she called down to Adam something about finding the school forms they were looking for.

Betelgeuse gave a sigh of relief, then stepped out of the closet again to silently close the room door. Hate to see ‘em leave but love to watch ’em go, he thought smugly to himself. Then he decided, once the door clicked quietly shut, that Lydia’s room wasn’t as safe a place for him as he had originally hoped, and tried to think of a way back down to the basement without alerting the Maitlands. 

As he turned back to continue working on cleaning up Lydia’s room, he noticed that the bedside table’s drawer was still pulled out. He felt around for the little clay beetle in his pockets, and when he found it, he pulled it out and held it up. He looked at it for a moment more, allowing the feelings he got from it to wash over him for a second, then he moved back over to the bedside table, and put it back where it belonged. Betelgeuse knew he couldn’t keep the beetle on him - _Lydia would definitely notice if it went missing, and beside_ I _don’t want it, I can convince myself of that for sure_ \- so he stared at it for a little bit longer amongst the other clutter, then reluctantly closed the drawer.

Betelgeuse continued on putting everything except what he had stored away in his pockets back in their rightful places, then picked his way carefully back down to the basement, listening intently for the Maitlands as he snuck. When Lydia came back from school that day, the first thing she did was bring her camera and some new film downstairs to develop, and when Betelgeuse showed her with a massive grin on his face the things he’d taken from around the house, he pointedly did not mention her room, nor the small striped beetle that was tucked away in her bedside table. To his surprise, she laughed at the strange collection of items he’d stolen, and he couldn’t help but join in on her mirth.

**:~ <** O **> ~:**

It was very dark in the tiny space the little striped demon found himself in. The kitchen cabinets might not have been his first choice in hiding spots, had he been given a choice, but with the split second he’d been given to hide, Betelgeuse found he’d been forced to make do.

Distantly, he could hear his mother calling his name, and he sniffled, trying to make as little noise as possible. His shoulder was sore as it wept viscous, black blood from the massive wound where one of his arms used to be, but the pain didn’t really register as he gripped it with his remaining hand. Betelgeuse was too distracted by what happened to really pay any mind to the gaping hole in the side of him and the strange smell of copper, iron and rot. The tiny claws that he had unintentionally sprouted from his fingertips only served to draw out more blood.

What he remembered was that he was on his way back from somewhere, probably the reception area that had just been updated to accommodate much more messy forms of human death such as being run over by a horse-drawn wagon. He stopped to look into one of the many tipsy doors that lined the short way to Home, and from out of it came a gigantic disembodied arm. The arm had grabbed ahold of Betelgeuse’s own, and before the little demon could react, it had wrenched his off of his body. Betelgeuse had screamed, of course he’d screamed, and it seemed like every dead person and creature heard his scream, as had his mother. She had come for him immediately afterwards, and chased him as where his arm used to be oozed fluids, yelling about the mess he was making and the horrid sounds he emitted. He’d run into the place they’d called Home, then dashed to the closest place within, the kitchen, to find a spot to lay low.

Juno called his name again, this time adding something she called a ‘first name’ to it. Her sweet voice nearly lured him out of his hiding spot, but he kept his feet firmly against the jar of pickles he was squished against, and let his eyes leak what he’d been told by some of the recently deceased were tears. He wasn’t sure he liked tears all that much, but he couldn’t stop their flow now, as they continued to pour from his face onto the cabinet bottom just below where he hovered in the air.

He listened as Juno got ever closer to where he’d holed himself up. He wanted to go find Mr. and Mrs. Cooper, wanted to go listen to their stories of how to make really fine wooden buckets and about the plagues that tore through their town, wanted desperately to forget about losing an arm. He just didn’t know how to regrow it, but Juno would be mad if she saw the gaping hole that his arm had left behind, she would be mad at the mess he was making out of his blood, she would be mad that he wasn’t trying hard enough to make his arm come back.

Betelgeuse knew how to summon extra arms, partially, and how to pop a limb off as though performing a party trick, but doing those things were easier. They didn’t require ripping apart and binding tissue together like regrowing a limb did, they didn’t require screaming and agonizing cell work and extreme attention to every little detail. When one of the other older demons had shown him how to regrow something by purposefully and painfully tearing off their own thumb and staring at it with grated teeth until it came back, Betelgeuse hadn’t been able to really figure out what they’d done. Now he regretted not asking exactly what the steps were that the other demon had taken, as Juno got closer to him.

“Where’d you go, Little Beetle,” Juno called in her sickly sweet voice. Betelgeuse wanted to throw up. “You know you shouldn’t be screaming when it's mommy’s quiet juice time. I just want to teach you a little lesson, okay? So come to me, wherever you are, and if you show yourself now your punishment won’t be as bad!”

Betelgeuse squeezed his eyes closed, but his tears didn’t stop. God, he wished they would stop. They were burning tracks into his cheeks, and he hated the feeling of them coming out of his eyes. Plus their tracks were starting to wander onto his neck, and he worried about what would happen if his blood mixed with his tears. Would they explode? He didn’t realise that both fluids were mixing below where he hovered, nor did he want to find out if his question’s answer was a definitive yes, not right then-

Suddenly, the cabinet door flew open, and Juno’s sharp, hard eyes bore into Betelgeuse’s whole being. Betelgeuse couldn’t help but scream as his mother reached inside and yanked him out of his spot by the scruff of his tiny black-and-white shirt. She winced, then glared at him as she shook him roughly.

“What have I told you about screaming?!” she yelled, the pretense of niceness gone from her voice. “I don’t know why I even agreed to make you, your father didn’t care for you and for all that you’ve put me through, neither do I! Only three hundred years my ass, you could be doing something, something productive, something _useful_ , you could be doing anything else but no, you’re here screaming your little fuckin’ head off. The others were able to go off in half the time it's taking you, you pest, but here you seem to stay. I’ll make you fuckin’ sorry you disturbed me, little Beetle Brat, teach you what it takes to be a demon in this world! You’re forcing my hand here, pest, and you’ll be so, so sorry…”

Betelgeuse screamed again as he was dragged off to one of the bedroom-like areas of Home, a trail of blood and tears behind him. When he returned to the reception area a year later, his arm was only half grown back and looked a little mangled, as some black blood continued to seep from it. Betelgeuse himself somehow looked more paler and dead. One of the civil servants took pity on him and snuck him into the back area where some of the other demons were, and let them work on him while she went back to work at the front desk. Betelgeuse never saw her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys like the way this thing turns out. The next chapter's 'flashback' is actually what made me want to write this fic in the first place, fun fact. Anyways, hope you guys like the chapter, and until next time!


	3. Should I Just Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Betelgeuse are hanging out when Adam suddenly intrudes, after which Lydia and Betelgeuse fight. Pulled from his job, Betelgeuse is yelled at by his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, I know it's been a bit, but I hope you enjoy this chapter! This one's flashback is what made me want to write this fic, specifically the part where BJ's doing his job, so I hope you all like that part as much as I liked writing it! Comments are always welcome, and if you spot anything that I could/should fix, tell me!

Lydia sat on her bed with her legs crossed over the edge and a massive textbook in her lap as Betelgeuse lazed on the ground. It was officially the weekend, which meant that Lydia was able to stay home all day. The fact that Lydia was able to stick around and cure some of his boredom pleased Betelgeuse to no end, and he’d been suggesting things they could do all morning, though most of his suggestions were almost instantaneously turned down.

“We could go over to the forest just on the edge of town and pretend like we’re malevolent spirits come back for revenge upon the casual joggers, cyclists and dog walkers,” Betelgeuse hummed as he picked at one of his fingers until it bled. “Those joggers and bikers used to come into the Netherworld all the time with animal markings and massive gashes covering their bodies, because they kept running into bears unprepared or falling off cliffs, so it’s not like we’d be doing anything worse to them than what they’d already be doing to themselves. Or we could take apart that shitty desk clock downstairs and use its cogs to change the very flow of time… for a little while.”

Lydia acknowledged Betelgeuse’s suggestions with a chuckle, but ultimately waved them off. “No, we can’t do anything too extreme or dangerous, that’ll both give you away and probably make me lose any ability to focus on my homework. Besides, don’t those things require you to be summoned to be able to pull off?”

Betelgeuse gagged, his long green tongue dropping down almost all the way to the ground as he ignored Lydia’s last statement and stuck a finger down his throat. “ _ Homework _ . Who does homework anymore? Homework’s for suckers and losers, and you’re no loser, right Lyds?”

“Maybe I am,” she replied as she threw her head back onto a pillow behind her, “but at least I’m a passing loser. You know, gotta get that education if I want to be a professional… I dunno, bug dissector, or photographer, I guess? I mean you can still be a professional photographer without a degree, but still. Besides, my grades are doing well, and I want to keep them that way, so unfortunately that means I gotta do my homework.”

Betelgeuse made a choking sound as he mimicked hanging himself, then rolled his eyes. “Whatever, it’s not like we’ve got better things to do anyways. Like maybe-”

Betelgeuse was very suddenly and extremely rudely interrupted by Lydia’s door flinging open and one of the Maitlands - Adam this time - barging in. Adam had his eyes closed, and didn’t notice Betelgeuse right away, but the demon found himself frozen, his hair snow white then light electric yellow, stuck in place from shock.

“Lydia,” Adam began as the girl jumped off of her bed and stood between him and Betelgeuse in an attempt to block the demon from his line of sight, “I just wanted to ask you about-  _ oh my god _ !”

Just as Adam opened his eyes, Betelgeuse thought of the next best thing to hiding, and transformed himself into a massive, ugly insect, which looked suspiciously like the clay beetle Lydia kept in her bedside table. As Lydia was pushed out of the way after turning around to see what frightened the ghost, Betelgeuse reared up on his back four legs, sticking the remaining two into the air menacingly as he gnashed his mandibles at Adam like he was about to eat him. The ghost could only manage to stare in paralysing fear at the manifestation before him as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Proud that he could pull off such a feat of fear without his full power, Betelgeuse began to move towards Adam in an attempt to scare him away or seriously injure him in the process, but Lydia once again came between the two.

“Betelgeuse, stop it!” the girl cried, both hands raised as though she could stop the demon with sheer force of will.

Betelgeuse hesitated, but when he saw the look in Lydia’s eyes, he brought himself down again, then reluctantly transformed back. Adam continued to stare at where Betelgeuse’s massive insectoid self had just been, and Lydia took the ghost by the arm to try and comfort him as she shot the demon a dangerous look. Betelgeuse backed away from the pair as he thought of ways he could attempt to escape without digging himself into an even bigger pit of trouble. His hair turned a strange shade of deep violent magenta with near unnoticeable streaks of cornfield yellow.

“Adam…?” Lydia asked carefully, like she would spook the ghost. “Are you okay?”

Adam seemed to shake himself out of his fear at last, then looked down at Lydia with wide eyes. He gave an unsteady smile at the girl, then patted the hand that was on his arm as he refused to look up into the room again.

“I-I think I’ll be alright in a couple minutes, yes,” he replied, “will probably just need to… lie down… for a bit… put things together in my head…”

Lydia nodded slowly, then turned Adam back out into the hallway and towards the attic. “That’s fair, I’ll come up to talk to you in a little bit, okay? You know, to uh, discuss what just, um, happened?”

Lydia bit her lip nervously, but Adam simply nodded, then made his way up into the attic alone. Lydia sighed with relief, then wheeled on Betelgeuse with a glare. The demon, despite himself, seemed to shrink in on himself.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, her voice low and angry. “All you had to do was hide or something, why did you do… that?”

“I don’t know!” Betelgeuse retorted, his face contorting into a mix of anger, embarrassment and a little bit of worry as his hair flared a rainbow of deep, horrible colours. Why hadn’t he done what he managed to do when Barbara had come in a couple days ago? “I-I panicked, what else was I supposed to do? You didn’t tell me I couldn’t protect us, and Adam was almost undoubtedly going to take you away from me when he saw me! Tell me, what was I supposed to do, what other option did I have?!”

Lydia seethed. “You do not own me, Betelgeuse, I’m not some object that can be ‘taken away from you’. And you know full well what you could have- no,  _ should  _ have done! You should have either pulled yourself together and ran for the closet, or you should have faced Adam head-on instead of- of that! He’s more likely to want you out, now, don’t you realise that?! Honestly, Betelgeuse, it’s like you haven’t changed a  _ bit _ since last time, like you didn’t take anything away from leaving here the first time except, ‘oh whoops my mom is the worst example of a parent, so I’ll go and find my other terrible excuse of a parent’!”

Betelgeuse’s back hit the wall as he continued to move away from Lydia and the open door, and he let out an involuntary huff. He placed both hands flat against the wall as his hair settled on a dark, dangerous mahogany, and he schooled his face into a mostly neutral expression.

“Maybe I haven’t changed,” Betelgeuse intoned, and some of Lydia’s anger simmered down. “Maybe, just maybe, you can’t teach an old demon new tricks.”

She closed her eyes, took a breath through her nose, then stared at Betelgeuse with hard eyes, not wanting to make the situation any worse. “Look, just go back to the basement without causing another scene so that no one else finds you here, and I’ll go talk to Adam. If I can explain to him the situation -which, by the way, I still need some clarification on, since you’ve already stayed longer than I thought that you would have at this point- then I can probably convince him not to freak out too much and maybe even keep the fact that you’re around on the down low, but you gotta know that since you pulled that stunt, he’s gonna have a harder time trusting you and letting you stay in his house.  _ I’m _ having a hard time trusting you, because this? Doesn’t prove that you’re sorry about anything. But I want to trust you, because I believe there is good inside of you, that you’re able to be less selfish and controlling, and I just wish you’d show it to other people. Okay? Now go, I need to check in on Adam.”

Without waiting for a response, Lydia left her room, the door swinging slightly as she passed by. Betelgeuse stood stock still for a moment, as he stared off into space. What the hell just happened? They’d been having such a good time, him and Lydia, but suddenly he goes and does one thing, and she’s all pissed at him? He didn't know it'd make her angry, so what the hell? How did that make sense?

_ Because you’ve never done anything right _ , a cruel little voice in his head said,  _ you’ve never been able to get anyone to stay, they all loathe you, she can’t even find it in her to trust you. You should have known. You screwed up big, like you always screw up, just like how mother said you always would _ .

He tried to defend himself, but he found he had no words to use against the voice. His mind was in complete disarray, unable to really process Lydia’s words as it slowly shut down. His heart felt like it was breaking all over again, though he knew it wasn’t possible to break something that was already broken. Every muscle in his body, every ounce of power he carried in his soul hurt in a strange and terrible way, but at the same time he couldn’t feel a thing. He couldn’t really name what he was feeling, but he knew it was something building off of the horrible aching guilt deep in his chest that had sprouted and grown ever since he left the Maitland/Deetz house last time, and he desperately wished that it would just go away.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he took one hand off the wall, and dropped it to his side. The thought that it was a miracle no one else in the house heard what just happened in Lydia’s room passed in his mind, but he paid it no mind, just as he ignored all the other much darker thoughts that swam past. He pulled his other hand off the wall much like the first, then began to sink through the floor, only partially paying attention to make sure no one else saw him.

He eventually sunk far enough down that he reached the basement, at which point he collapsed on the ground like a marionette without strings. He wished he knew how to turn off his feelings, like what it seemed his mother used to know how to do. As it was, however, he simply curled himself into a ball on the cold hard cement, and closed his eyes in the hopes that sleep would come quickly to him in the dark.

:~ **<** O **>** ~:

Betelgeuse stood before a crowd of relatively uneasy people with various maladies and open wounds, most still bleeding out where things like axes and swords stuck out of them or glass twinkled within their mutilated flesh. A couple had massive, gaping bullet holes, which was a brand new look that Betelgeuse didn’t think looked half bad, compared to some of the other means of death that wandered around. He wondered mildly if the extra blood that fell from these bullet victims annoyed the reception custodians when they were forced to clean up during a lull in people heading to and from the Netherworld.

The demon himself had a false bright smile plastered on his face as he readjusted the hat on his head for the 20th time, and scratched at a new patch of mold that grew out of his rotting skin. It was a fancy little thing, the hat, and though it didn’t match his permanently stained black and white striped two-piece suit, the shiny golden-plated lettering on the front of it, which read ‘GUIDE’ in bold times new roman, made him feel very official when he wore it. The bill on the front of it stuck out proudly from the top of his hairline.

A couple of the people in the crowd subtly pointed and stared at Betelgeuse as he stood in front of them, in awe that a being such as him would allow himself to look like a decomposing corpse. He took pride in their stares as he considered their hypocrisy, however. He’d worked very hard to keep up the whole ‘dirt and grime’ thing, going so far as to let insects nest in some of his suit pockets or in his ears until he decided to utilize them as a snack. He would argue that he was one of the most disgusting things in the entire Netherworld, and boy did he love it.

He shook his head from his contemplations, however, as he focused back on the guided tour group. All of those who stood before him were recently deceased, newly-deads who needed to be shown the ropes of what went down in the Netherworld and how they could contribute to the world they would now inhabited for the rest of eternity. In the past, Betelgeuse had dealt with some groups of newly-deads who would ask dumb questions such as if they would be able to see loved ones again who had died before they had (to which the answer was obviously yes as long as the loved one didn’t commit suicide and still wanted to see them), or if they could go back to Earth to clear up whatever stupid thing they had always wanted to do before they'd gone and died (to which Betelgeuse would laugh in their faces until they grew incredibly uncomfortable and flustered, then reply in a dead-pan voice that obviously, there was no real way out of the Netherworld, so no). The group Betelgeuse had before him at that moment was no different, and even had a couple of the newly-deads still holding their hands up like it was 2nd grade maths class with dumb, confused looks on their faces.

No matter how stupid Betelgeuse thought they were, however, they needed to be shown their new home, and no one was better suited to that kind of job than the demon these newly-deads were stuck with. He had memorised every inch of the Netherworld and knew it like the back of his hand, and though most recently deceased found him repulsive, they couldn’t deny that once he left them on their own, they were much more informed on what to do now that they were dead than they would have been without him.

“Alright, listen up, people,” Betelgeuse called out, and the newly-deads stopped their quiet murmuring to put their attention on him as the ones who still had questions dropped their hands. He loved being at the centre of attention like this, and his hair, which had just gained the ability to change colour, slid from its usual tone into a bright lime green. “Welcome to the tour of the rest of your eternity. On this fantastically abysmal and dark day, I’ll be your guide to the other side. My name is Betelgeuse, but you all can just call me ‘Guide’ so I can ignore you calling at me better. I’m going to be showing you around the great big terrible place we lovingly call the Netherworld. At no point should you stray from the group, and if you do, I can give you no guarantee that you won’t be eaten by a sandworm and completely removed from this plane of reality permanently, nor that I won’t be watching you get eaten while laughing my ass off. Also while we’re on the topic of sandworms, no unnecessary screaming about them, or screaming in general, understood? Good. We don’t want to wake the dead, now, do we? That’s what I thought. Okay, we will be doing a lot of walking, because we will literally be going through almost every bit of the Netherworld, meaning extensive talking on my part and lots of sights, so for those of you who died with whatever moment-capturing device is in these days up there, like paints or something, make sure to have those out and ready. We will not be stopping, so get good at painting on the move or get left behind and eaten, though you’ll be getting more than a lifetime’s worth of shots on this tour, so maybe just memorize the sights like I did. If you even attempt to tell me that your feet are sore I will throw you to the sandworms myself, because you are dead now, and dead people don’t get sore feet, nor tired or any other stupid side affect that comes with being alive. Your personal mode of death might ache once in a while, but you’re gonna have to get used to that because we don’t have things like soothing herbs or whatever you had up there for ailments down here, so suck it up and keep walking. We do have stuff like weed and cocaine, however, so if you need a fix of that hit me up afterwards and I’ll set you up. If you were hoping to see your pet or pets that you lost in life and thought you might be reunited with when you died, there will be a shelter at the end of the tour that you can search through. It is the only shelter in the Netherworld, and it is jam packed with muts and cats and other weird exotic or stupid creatures you all decided would be fun or cool to own for some reason and then got connected to, except for most fish, because all fish besides koi, flounders, sharks and soles don’t have souls. If your pet isn’t at the shelter and it’s not a fish, it’s probably not dead yet. Probably. And finally, before we get going, if you have any questions during the tour while I’m talking, save it until the end, when you’ve probably forgotten it because it guaranteed wasn’t all that important if I didn’t cover it in the first place. One more thing, I will not be repeating myself more than maybe two times, if you’re lucky, else we’ll be at this for the rest of fuckin’ time, so listen to what I say the first time round. Got it? Okay. Let’s-”

“Mr. Betelgeuse!”

Betelgeuse groaned as his hair began to turn bright orange, then slowly spun towards the source of the voice. “What?! I have a schedule to keep!”

From the crowd of recently deceased, a thin, wiry ghost pushed his way through. The side of his head was oozing what appeared to be his brain matter, indicating that something had been smashed into his skull, and it looked like a couple of his bones were broken. He was pale beyond belief, though sported a very blue face with stains running down his chin and onto his shirt, and it looked as though he was about to vanish into thin air, he was such a faint spirit. If Betelgeuse had to guess, he’d say the man had intentionally fallen to his death, but before he’d cracked his skull open he’d gotten tangled up in some waterways, most likely a whitewater river. He certainly wasn’t one of the ones in Betelgeuse’s tour, meaning he must be one of the many workers that kept working around the pack of recently deceased to keep the Netherworld running.  _ Civil servants _ , the demon thought with annoyance,  _ you know I hate ‘em _ .

The wiry ghost swiftly made his way in front of Betelgeuse, bowed quickly to the crowd as though thanking them for letting him through, then turned to the demon. Betelgeuse glared him down, but the wiry ghost didn’t seem to flinch. He looked up at Betelgeuse with something akin to pity.

“U-uhm, Mr. Betelgeuse, J-Juno demands your presence immediately.” Every stutter in the ghost’s speech forced slick, oil-like liquid out of his mouth, which made some of the newly-deads gag from behind him as it splattered on the ground.

Betelgeuse groaned even louder than last time as his hair turned a dark cherry red. “What! Tell her I’m working, and that I won’t be able to see her for at least six years!”

The tour group seemed to shuffle and murmur at the mention of walking for years, and the demon threw his glare over to them. “Don’t you go about complaining, it’s not like you’ve got anything better to be doing! The only way you can get out of the reception area is by me giving you a rundown of the Netherworld, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

He brought his attention back to the wiry ghost as he slowly and clearly articulated the end of his sentence, then stared him down. The ghost didn’t seem fazed.

“I d-don’t think Juno w-would take that a-as an answer,” he replied as he shook his head. “P-please come with me, M-Mr. Betelgeuse, and we can g-get this over with-th.”

Betelgeuse fumed for a couple seconds, then attempted to calm himself down. He looked over one of his shoulders, then snapped his fingers. Instantly, a small crew of cheerleaders appeared, grinning so wide they would have torn their cheek muscles apart had they been alive. A couple of the newly-deads gasped and oohed, which changed Betelgeuse’s hair colour from steaming red to a softer brown. They danced forward towards the tour group as Betelgeuse stepped away with the wiry ghost, and began chanting what the group would see to their awed audience.

Without speaking, the wiry ghost led Betelgeuse away through a labyrinth of tilted doors and tipsy, twisting hallways towards the main offices of the Netherworld. Occasionally, he would pause to glance back towards Betelgeuse and make sure the demon was still following, but would be spurned on when he saw the rage that filled Betelgeuse’s eyes as he followed close behind.

The demon hated being taken away from work. It was one of the only times people listened to him, and for such a long time. He flourished in the attention, despite the animosity he threw at his charges, and of all the spirits and spectres that guided newly-deads through the Netherworld, his tours always ended up with the most educated recently deceased. All this, Juno knew, and yet she still demanded he be torn away from his job, and meet her right then. As Betelgeuse angrily stalked behind the wiry ghost, he muttered something about respect under his breath. The wiry ghost didn’t inquire about it.

Finally, they made it to Juno’s head office, and the wiry ghost stopped, knocked on the door, and placed a hand on the doorknob. “Sh-she’s requested that I st-tay outside, i-if that’s alri-ight with you.”

“I don’t care,” growled Betelgeuse, and the ghost quickly opened the door. Betelgeuse stormed in.

Juno sat behind her desk in a plush spinning chair with her back turned to Betelgeuse, though he was sure she knew he was there. The door clicked softly closed behind Betelgeuse, but it wasn't until he stepped up to the desk that Juno reacted. She turned slowly towards him in her chair, dressed like a manager with her pink pantsuit.

“Ah, Betelgeuse,” she said with a sweet smile, “what a pleasant surprise.”

“What do you want?” Betelgeuse asked in a flat tone. He then shifted a little, and added, “… Mother.”

Juno’s smile only seemed to widen. “You should know why you’re here. There’s only one reason why I would take you away from your  _ precious work _ .”

Betelgeuse glared at the floor and shoved his hands in his pant pockets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, clearly.”

“Come now, Laurence,” Juno said sweetly, and Betelgeuse clenched his fists and jaw at the sound of his first name. He could feel blood start to flow from his palms. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, you must.”

Betelgeuse’s mind was blank. He couldn’t think of why Juno had called him in, and he desperately searched his mind for what it could possibly be. He shook his head a little as he continued to glare at the ground.

“I really don’t know why I’m here,” he said, a little out of breath. Why was he out of breath? He hadn't done any physical labour recently, and it wasn’t like he needed to breathe anyways, so why did he sound like he’d just done a light jog? He just needed to get over himself, there wasn’t anything in the room that should be making him breathe harder.

From the edges of his vision, Betelgeuse saw Juno frown. “Why don’t I inform you, then? I’m missing papers. Forms for some of the newly-deads that are in your little tour group today. I need those forms, else they won’t have paperwork, and won’t be permitted to work anywhere even if they wanted to. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Betelgeuse shook his head again. “No.”

“So where’d you put them then?”

Betelgeuse’s eyes widened, and he snapped his gaze up to his mother. “What?”

“Where’d you put my papers, Laurence?” Juno repeated, her sick smile back on her face. She looked like an entomologist who was just about to pin down a new specimen on a cork board.

Betelgeuse stood in shock. He had no clue where Juno’s papers were. How could he know? He hadn’t been in her office in ages, and had intentionally avoided everything to do with her for years. Why did she even think he was the one who messed with her stuff? There were plenty of other ghosts and demons that he could think of who would be more likely candidates. 

“I-I don’t know,” Betelgeuse stuttered, then cringed at himself. He was a demon, straight from hell, he shouldn’t be  _ stuttering _ , he should be stronger than his stupid, all-powerful mom. “I couldn’t possibly know where your forms are,  _ mother _ , I haven’t been near your offices in years.”

“Don’t you start getting smart with me,” Juno’s tone sharpened, and Betelgeuse closed in on himself. “You know exactly where they are, I know you do. Give them back, or there will be consequences. Namely, you might not get to keep that fun little official job you like so much if you keep acting like this.”

Juno gestured to the hat Betelgeuse still wore, and he gasped a little as he ripped it off. A couple strands of hair came with it, which swiftly disintegrated into black charcoal.

"It's a privilege," Juno continued, as she pretended not to notice Betelgeuse's clear display of panic, "not a right, you only earn jobs like that if you're good. Remember last time, when you decided to act out like this?

“But I haven’t done anything!” Betelgeuse cried out, much like a child as doubt and worry began to bubble up inside him. He tried to reign himself in - he was supposed to be something that made scared little kids wet the beds when they thought of him, for god's sake! - but he found he couldn’t. His fingers worried at the edges of his hat.

“That’s simply not true, though, is it?” Juno hummed, as she drummed her fingers on her desk. Betelgeuse hadn’t even noticed that she’d placed her hand there in the first place. “You’ve done so, so much, and now you’ve crossed the line. I know you know exactly where you’ve placed my forms, and I also know you know that I need those forms to keep the laws and order we have around here. And if you’re so unwilling and immature as to tell me where those forms are, then perhaps you’re too immature to keep the job you currently hold, hm?”

“But I don’t know where they are!” Betelgeuse blurted out, then took a breath, trying to calm himself. He knew his hair gave him away, however, with its hard eggplant purple, and he hated how easy it made him to read. “I have no idea where your forms are, I swear to you. I haven’t seen head nor tail of them, I didn’t even know you were sorting newly-deads recently. W-what if I found them for you? I’m sure I could get them back to you in- in a month, maybe less?”

Juno hummed again, then shook her head. “Not good enough.”

“I-I don’t know what else to do, then-”

“You know perfectly well what I want from you,” Juno interrupted, “now hand over my forms.”

She stuck out one of her finely manicured hands, the ends of her fingernails just barely hooking over the tips of her fingers like claws. Betelgeuse just stared at the hand, stricken. Then he looked back up at her face, though he avoided her eyes.

“I-I… can’t give them to you right now,” he said quietly, like a lamb faced with slaughter. Juno sneered.

“No, of course you can’t. You can’t seem to do anything, can you?” Betelgeuse looked down again as his hair began to turn mahogany, and Juno curled her clawed fingers into her palm, then pulled her hand back towards her person. “From the very beginning, you’ve been nothing but trouble, and now you’ve come in here and lied about the things that I and everyone else know you’ve done. I am finished, Little Beetle, I am done. Leave, now, and get that pathetic shade of red out of your hair while you're going. It's unflattering.”

Betelgeuse tried to argue his point, but Juno simply spun far enough in her chair so that she had turned her back to him once again. He began to yell and scream at her as she kept as silent as stone. He knew what she was doing, painting him to be some kind of bad guy, but he couldn’t help but fall for her traps. Soon enough, he had worked himself up into a ferocious wrath, and nearly threw himself through her office door and down the winding hallways of the Netherworld, knocking the ghost that had stayed just outside the office door to the ground as he blew past. Despite what Juno threatened, Betelgeuse tried to go back to the tour he was meant to guide, as he shoved his hat back on his head. But the newly-deads were no longer where he’d left them, and the cheerleaders he had summoned were gone.

The next decade saw Betelgeuse attempting and failing to take back his job of guiding any and all recently deceased through the Netherworld. He did everything, from kidnapping new tour guides to scaring random groups into scattering, but eventually, he realised that he wouldn’t be able to get his job back. A handful of the receptionists tried to comfort him, make him feel a little better, but to no avail.

Betelgeuse fell into a deep sadness, but outwardly it didn’t stay. Soon enough, sadness shifted into rage, then after that something entirely new. He didn’t know what to do, as soon after their meeting, Juno stole from him all that brought him joy one by one, from his job to the very people around him. Ghosts began to resent him, ghosts that he’d never even met before, as whispers of scaring, potential murder and mental instability circulated, until it seemed like the entire universe had a special hate kept deep inside just for him. Most importantly, however, Juno took away what little freedom he had held before.

A law passed through the Netherworld bureaucracy with heavy influence from Juno, a law that stated only ghosts who had permits, or who had never entered the Netherworld in the first place, were allowed and at all able to haunt the living and their world. It was a simple law, just a couple words on ancient spiritually charged paper, but it clamped down on all spirits, ghosts and demons who wished to leave the land of the dead. Betelgeuse began to feel the Netherworld constrict around him, every crevasse and secret cranny taunting him. There was no place he could go that could release the tight, terrible feeling that had begun to grip his chest.

Eventually, Betelgeuse realised what he was feeling, what now drove him to escape his predicament. It was a clawing feeling that ate him up inside, tore into his sanity and pushed him to the edge. He found that it wasn’t just one emotion that he could pin down, though he wouldn’t have been able to name his emotions anyways.

Betelgeuse had fallen into desperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I did read all of your comments last time, and hoo boy, those of you who said protect the baby boy, it only gets worse! I've got a plan that I'm running off of, but I don't think any of you will like the plan set out for the flashback timeline, but I can't say anything about it yet without spoiling anything! If you want any hints, comment at me and I'll give you as cryptic an answer as I can manage down there, promise.
> 
> Also before any of you guys say 'hey wait BJ can't say his name, that's like a major thing with his character', this flashback portion, as well as the ones previous to this one, are set before Betelgeuse is cursed. That'll come into play in a later chapter, don't you worry! And I'm sure you guys all figured this out already, but I'm using the same colour-of-hair chart as everyone else pretty much is these days as a basic outline for whatever fantastic colour combination I decide to write, but if you haven't already seen it then I'm sorry but I legit looked around and can't find the source, so if someone has the link, send it to me and I'll put it here.
> 
> I'm also working on a couple other projects for this fandom that I might decide to post pretty soon here, but none of them will be a 'major' project like this one, more like things to keep my mind distracted while I'm forced to stay home. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed, and until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, if you liked it maybe consider leaving kudos and a comment? No matter what I hope it was enjoyable and that there weren't too many glaring errors! Until next time!


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